"Now you think that a very excellent argument, Driesen, don't you; and you call yourself a philosopher and a logician. What right have you to suppose that I am angry with him for falling in love with Lucy Effingham? I am not angry with him for that, in the least. I think it quite natural, and what I expected and wished; but what I expected and wished also was, that my son should make me, in the first instance, acquainted with his intentions and purpose, and not clandestinely seek the hand of a person whom he might have obtained openly and straightforwardly; but openness and straightforwardness are not a part of his character, sir, to his father at least; and his father will teach him that he is not to be contemned and made a fool of with impunity. He shall learn better, whether he likes it or not; and though the lesson may be a painful one to inflict or to receive, I shall not hesitate to give it. And now, Driesen, I will tell you something more," he continued. "Do not let me hear any more of these arguments, for I know you are reasoning against your own conviction, by doing which you will nor serve my son at all, and may make an unpleasant difference towards yourself." "I wasn't reasoning against my conviction, Tyrrell," said Mr. Driesen, grinning at him in return; "But I was certainly reasoning against my own interest, which is what a man seldom does in the world, let me tell you. However, henceforth I shall hold my tongue upon the subject. If you choose to leave your money away from your son, I don't see why I shouldn't have it as well as another; and, to tell you the truth, if you thought fit to do so, and could manage to die within a rational time, thirty or forty thousand pounds would be very convenient, as indeed a less sum would, for that rascal, Swearum, has called in his mortgage, and threatens to foreclose. He tells me, too, he could arrest me for interest if he liked, and I rather suspect that he tells me true." "He sha'n't do that, Driesen. He sha'n't do that!" replied Sir Francis, who was, as we have said, a really generous man in regard to pecuniary matters. "But I will go down directly to the manor," he continued "and ascertain what truth there is in the news I have heard. I have sent for the young scoundrel home already, though I dare say he is by this time expelled from the University for this glorious beginning of life which he chooses to make." Mr. Driesen did not reply; for it was evident that, in Sir Francis Tyrrell's state of mind at the moment, no argument would be effectual. He saw him, then, take his hat and gloves, and set out for the manor with the appearance of cool indifference which he usually put on, taking up a book and stretching his leg over the back of one of the chairs, as if not one word of any importance had been said during the morning.